Leonard Woolf to Lytton Strachey, 7 July 1907: 'My brother sent me The Longest Journey. Don't you think it is an astonishing & irritating production? What a success he will be! For people will think it all so clever. I thought on every other page that he was really going to bring something off, but it all fades away into dim humour & the dimmer ghosts of unrealities. It might have been so magnificent & is a mere formless meandering. The fact is I don't think he knows what reality is, & as for experience the poor man does not realize that practically it does not exist. Still his mind interests me, its curious way of touching on things in the rather precise & charming way in which his hands (I remember) used to touch things vaguely.'